


Equilibrium

by GoogamooGirloftheWeek



Category: WMAC Masters (TV Series)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Complicated Sibling Relationships, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Friendship, Gen, Intrigue, Jukido, Martial Arts, Post-Canon, Self-Indulgent, WMAC, does this count as a fix-it AU, hypothetical season 3, my overindulgent headcanons, resolving a cliffhanger, tying up loose ends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29119398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoogamooGirloftheWeek/pseuds/GoogamooGirloftheWeek
Summary: Jukido didn't just steal the Dragon Star. They left something in its place. A calling card, and the message is clear: they aren't done with the WMAC. Hypothetical what happened next, because my 13 year old self still needs closure.Do I need to spoiler tag for a show that was canceled 25 years ago? I hope not, because this is like a WMAC canon smoothie. Actually, it's more like that nacho hack I just saw on FB, where the woman tried to go all Cold Stone mix-ins with the ingredients and made vomit, instead.





	1. Intro/Great Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I obviously own nothing and make no profit from this. It's just overwhelming fondness for the series and too much time on my hands that motivated this. On that note, this is the first WMAC fic on this site and I'm the one who did the character tagging. If it's terrible, it's 100% my fault. I went with what I thought worked best all around.  
> Also, since “Tracy Swedom” was a character name created for a very specific purpose, Michael M. Foley didn't get a nod like everyone else. And he deserves that S/O, so very much. Because that scene in Battle of the Brothers, where Great Wolf is saying there's something not right at the WMAC, and then enter Tracer with the blow torch... LMAO. It's one of my favorite moments of the whole series.  
> That's probably very telling... Anyway. He plays a great villain and deserves all of the praise.  
> I've got this all outlined, several chapters already written. Not sure why I'm sharing that, since I'm likely just posting this for myself. But if anyone else stumbles upon this, I hope you enjoy. Although, the more I binge the series on YT (bless you for the uploads, everyone, but esp AnimeBleachBabe, for you were the first) I do see lots of us really do remember WMAC, and very fondly, too. :D Long live WMAC Masters.

_Life's battles don't always go to the stronger or the faster man. But sooner or later the man who wins is the man who thinks he can._

-Bruce Lee

* * *

_The arena's packed. Fists pumping, every which way, and there's jeering. Punching at nothing, yelling at everything. It's hard to tell who's on the throne._

_The Battle Dome is coming down, and it's dark. It's electricity, even if no one has touched the cage, yet._

_Ninjas haven't been ordered into this battle, but they're rushing in, anyway. From all angles and with red sashes to match the banners hung up everywhere._

_The mark of Jukido sits where the Dragon Star should be. Angry and spiny, it's a trophy nobody wants to win._

_The man on the throne stands up. Then he looks down. There's a pop, a puff of smoke, and the moon and stars are inside._

_Finally, Warlock speaks, “Jukido was once a part of the WMAC. Now... the WMAC will be a part of Jukido.”_

* * *

There's a saying about dreams... Well, there's lots of them. But what it boils down to is if a person works hard, perseveres, his dreams will come true. Only, that's the last thing Great Wolf wants right about now. Because they aren't just dreams anymore; he knows they never were. They're visions and they're getting worse. It isn't just happening when Jamie is asleep, either. When he snaps out of it, he's both disappointed and relieved to see the Inner Sanctum looking the way it does.

The chessboard's been cleared, the magazines are all stacked, and the monitors are dark. There's no games being played, no matches being broadcast. The stands are empty, and the battle zones are _all_ a ghost town, now.

The rotating platform has been torn apart.

It makes sense the council would want to scour every inch of the thing. The last time anybody saw the Dragon Star, within the WMAC, at least, was when Black Widow put it into the tri-chamber cyber cell before the ladies championship match. There was a time, not that long ago, when nobody could've ever imagined it wouldn't be exactly where it was supposed to be.

Everyone's been so focused on how Jukido stole the Dragon Star, that they seem to be forgetting Jukido didn't just steal the Dragon Star. They left something in its place. A calling card, and the message is clear: they aren't done with the WMAC.

“So, what now?” Sophia asks. It's a fair question, and she's got every right to ask it. She should be celebrating the beginning of her championship reign, instead, she's the face of the biggest scandal in WMAC history. Not for anything she's done—or at least, not for anything she's done wrong. It's just that it's _her_ horrified reaction that comes to mind when everyone thinks of what happened. It's unshakable, the image of Chameleon, reaching out, as the cyber cell was rising from the rotating platform and the mark of Jukido was rising up _from it._

Turbo scoffs, “What now? We find Jukido and get the Dragon Star back.” It's an equally fair reply, on the surface. But the reality of a proposition like that sets a dangerous precedent. Turbo may have spoken the words with the utmost nonchalance, but what he's suggesting is heavy and beyond serious.

There's a sort of buzz—murmurs and mumbling—and a couple of people almost recoil. But there's no actual rebuttal, or response of any sort, until Machine speaks up, “Do you even hear yourself? Talking like we're gonna form some huge WMAC posse and go after Tracer and Warlock, like—”

“Like...?” Turbo interrupts. But he's only pretending to guess.

“ _Like_ we're no better than they are.” It's obvious Machine is as offended and betrayed as anyone by Jukido's actions, but that he also couldn't disagree more with what Turbo has seemingly just proposed.

It was before his time at the WMAC, but Jamie knows the story of the injury Hakim fought back from to become _the Machine_. He knows about the lack of self-control that led to that injury and how serious Hakim is about never being so undisciplined ever again.

Turbo's grinning, and he looks way too amused as he declares, “Oh, we're gonna have to be much better than they are.”

Hakim's looking Mike up and down, and there's disdainful expression tugging at his lips. It's no smile or even a smirk; it's more like a tic. Like he's trying to conceal anger but can't decide on what he oughta hide it with. He eventually mutters, “Cheap shots, dirty fights. Not surprised _you_ don't get it. You're supposed to be a master.”

Gone is that too cool, laid-back, _taunting_ demeanor of just a moment before, and Turbo has stepped forward and closed the space between himself and Machine. He's edgy, _offended_ , insisting, “Hey, just because that Dragon Star is gone doesn't mean I've forgotten what it stands for.”

“We all want to do something, alright. The right thing. It's obvious we aren't quite decided on what that is,” Yin Yang interjects, not just with words, either. He actually steps up between Turbo and Machine. It's not the first time Richard has done that sort of thing, either. Not necessarily between the two of them, but he's good at defusing things—mainly, Turbo—and he's nothing if not clever. He was the brains behind the majority of Turbo and Star Warrior's _contests_ , when they were going on about who was the best at... well, whatever suited Yin Yang's whims.

Jamie can't help wondering if a part of Richard wasn't just messing with the both of them, seeing how much ridiculous stuff he could get them to do in the name of pride, while he sat back and enjoyed the show. He's not hanging anyone upside-down right now, though. Instead, it feels like everyone's world has been turned around, and they've all been hung out to dry.

Richard just plain wants the infighting to stop. He's not the only one. He adds, “Okay, so, maybe we don't exactly agree on what the right thing is, yet. One thing's for certain: we're _all_ masters.”

Wizard's voice is hardly more than a whisper but he commands the whole room when he says, “So are my brother and Tracer.”

Jamie's not quite sure what Wizard's getting at; he hasn't had a vision about him. _Yet_. He's hoping no news is good news. He trusts Wizard, though. Then again, there was a time—a very long period of time, too—when he trusted Warlock.

It's just so disheartening to think someone who earned his place as a master, who overcame the ugliness of his past, still questions if he belongs. Wizard has more than paid his dues in the very short time he's been with the WMAC. Meanwhile, his brother swindled the whole roster _and_ beat him within an inch of his life. Wherever Larry is, no doubt he's real pleased with how he pulled the wool over everyone's eyes for so long.

Jamie forces Wizard to look him in the eyes as he speaks, “No, _they're_ Jukido.”

“They're _both_ , and so am I. Or, I have been,” Wizard insists. His jaw is tight, and his eyes are dark. “I'm not Jukido anymore, but you should all understand what it means that I once was. I couldn't be _ex_ -Jukido if was never just plain Jukido. _I_ did bad things, even if I was just a kid when I pledged loyalty to them.”

“What kind of things?” Princess asks. Mer-Mer was among the first to admit she didn't know a thing about Wizard, after he joined up. When everyone else was sharing rumors about him, and ridiculous ones, at that, she just plain admitted she didn't know— _that nobody really did_ —and didn't say a single word more.

It speaks to the sort of quiet class Princess has always had. She didn't outright say everyone else should probably stop spouting nonsense about Wizard, Jamie included, but she didn't have to. Everyone shut up after that.

Then again, that was about when Warlock showed up and dropped the bomb that he and Wizard were estranged brothers, and cast doubt on Wizard's credibility by revealing he was Jukido.

Now, it seems Wizard himself wants everyone to know what that means.

“I stole things. Destroyed property. _Beat people up_. For stupid reasons. For no reason,” Wizard confesses. “My brother isn't just a sore loser, throwing a tantrum, and Tracer isn't just some guy who gets way too wound up over what you call him. And it should go without saying that Jukido isn't just a schoolyard gang.”

“It isn't just a martial arts discipline, either.” Much like Princess, Star Warrior has never been one to say a lot, but when he does open his mouth, it's important.

Ho-Young never said more than that he wasn't the man behind the _mask_ , that he wasn't the _ninja_ behind the sabotage of his brother and Machine's championship match. Jamie's never quite understood why Ho-Young hid the truth, especially when it turns out that truth included his alibi. But Johnny immediately took him at his word and Jamie took Johnny at _his_.

It sparks a certain pride inside of him, over the way Johnny had Ho-Young's back, with no hesitation. It's why they're best friends. It's why that too-short-yet-way-too-long time in his life when they _weren't_ hurt so bad.

“No, that would require some actual discipline,” Ho-Sung mutters. The whole roster has fallen victim to Jukido's humiliation and deceit, but few of them so publicly as Superstar.

It goes without saying that Ho-Sung has become quieter, more subdued since that fight. Since losing the title to Machine, for real. Jamie's got a feeling it goes deeper than his pride taking a knock, though. The seed was never watered, but it was planted, that his own brother could've wanted to ruin his Dragon Star defense match. It's obviously never been dug up, either. Just left in the dirt. _Buried_. To rot, or at the very least, harden.

Now Cyclone's saying something in Japanese and Jamie wishes like everything that he could understand. At least as much as he wishes he already spoke Japanese, back when they were rollerblading on the beach the day Yuji broke his leg. But sometimes, things just get going so fast, get so out of control, no amount of yelling or flailing is gonna put the brakes on anything.

Understanding, though, _that_ will. And Jamie still doesn't understand, all because he's never taken the time to learn.

Bam offers a much needed translation, “He says, 'Don't forget that Jukido was once formally recognized by the WMAC'.”

It's no secret that Willie dodged an accusation, himself, when the Masked Ninja reared his ugly head. He said where he was, in no uncertain terms: with his son. There _was_ something more important than a title match, to him. He immediately reminded everyone _what_ it was, and proved _where_ he was, and they all dropped it.

“But they were banned for refusing to follow the code of the Dragon Star,” Christine points out.

It's just such a weird thing to think of any master doing—disrespecting the Dragon Star. Living by it has enriched Jamie's life; he's confident everyone else currently here feels the same. Christine's proof of that. Lady Lightning is a former Dragon Star champion, who just recently challenged for the title a second time, and would be starting her third degree belt now if competition wasn't shut down.

“Yeah, we know Jukido was banned, but do we know exactly what they did?” Johnny's asking. He's thoughtful, but there's something else. A sort of something that comes from experience. Well, he's seen firsthand what Jukido got away with. He stopped it from being worse. He's asking because he wants to know if his experience matches up with what's in the records.

Olympus steps up. “What didn't they do is more like it.”

It's not surprising he's got an answer, and it's not surprising that's what it is. Everyone's had suspicions about something or other— _someone_ or other—since the Masked Ninja. But Herb was the one who dug in the archives and finally put all the pieces together. Put Tracer and Warlock together. Put Warlock on the rotating platform well before his own Dragon Star match, then put one of their buddies up on the platform during his title shot. Put _several_ of their buddies inside the Battle Dome with Wizard, after hours, and thank goodness Johnny was there to help even the odds.

Herb continues, “They broke just about every rule in the book. Big time. Wasn't just a few infractions here or there. The kind of mistake someone on the up-and-up learns from and never makes again.”

“Maybe because they weren't mistakes,” Red Dragon doesn't sound like he's guessing. It's experience and disappointment in his tone. Just because he won his title defense match against Warlock doesn't mean it was fair. Chris had to withstand a double-team to do so, and nobody, including him, even knew it was happening, at the time.

Herb agrees, “Exactly.”

“Broke the rules how?” It's Kid that asks. He's as curious as anyone. He's just got fewer matches under his belt than most anybody else. It's gotta be unsettling that Warlock is among his opponents since being promoted to master status. That they squared off the very day Larry arranged to have Wizard attacked inside the Battle Dome.

Looking back, there was just something real relentless about Larry in that fight, though, for as evenly matched as he and Kid were. Not to mention, something impatient and petulant and unsportsmanlike about him after he got the win, too.

Most people probably didn't notice—Jamie sure didn't—or they all just dismissed it as him being anxious to face Wizard in the finals. The truth was, his mask was slipping. His well-crafted, well-worn façade was beginning to crack.

“It was exactly like what we've been witnessing. Jukido practitioners were caught injuring opponents with illegal moves during matches. Suspected of attacking rivals outside of competition. Several of their competitors even tested positive for banned substances.” Herb pauses, and sighs. He somehow sounds both offhand and disappointed, adding, “It took the council a long time to weed them all out. As it turns out, they didn't.”

Maybe the council just didn't close the door tightly enough after giving them the boot the first time.

There's a heavy, sinking feeling inside of Jamie. Something that's both falling and stuck, at the same time. Solid, like a stone, but it tingles, too. It's the sort of thing that can't dissolve without eating away at whatever's around it on the way down.

Johnny looks to Wizard, “What do you think? You know them better than anyone else.”

Wizard inhales, holds it a minute. He's mulling it over. But it seems like he's thinking more about how to say what he's gonna say than on _what_ he's gonna say. He exhales, and answers, “Pretending Jukido isn't a threat won't work. I already made that mistake.”

“So, you're saying we should fight?” Of course it's Turbo who asks. Although, he doesn't look or sound like his usual impulsive self. There's something reserved and serious and contemplative about him. Somehow, it's more unnerving than when he's hot under the collar and just itching to fight. Well, there's a reason he won the Dragon Star, defended it twice, and has six Ki symbols on his second degree belt, now. He's a smart, tough competitor, and he's definitely not all talk, even if he does have a gigantic mouth.

“I'll never attack anyone out of anger, or for revenge,” Wizard says, seriously. He shifts his weight. But it's not out of awkwardness, and he's not trying to delay or deny anything, either. It's for balance. A necessary adjustment. “But I will defend everyone here. If it wasn't for Tiger Claw being there to defend me, I wouldn't be able to make that choice. It's up to the rest of you to decide what you think is right.”

Jamie's not sure what anyone else's decision is going to be, or even what his own is, to be honest.

It all sort of feels like a knowing there's a time bomb that needs defusing, and while he can hear the ticking and see all the crossed wires, he really doesn't know how long until the countdown reaches zero. He can't do nothing, but cutting the wrong wires and blowing them all up is no better.

Jamie knows what he's seen is important; a person doesn't up and start having visions for no reason. He also knows his visions are only so good unless accompanied by action. Making a plan is nothing if a person doesn't actually work toward accomplishing it. Follow-through is everything.

Jamie also knows he's not the only one making plans.

Unless he and everyone else does _something_ , he's gonna keep having this vision, just like with the last one, until it stops being a vision and becomes reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan to feature a different character as the “voice” of each chapter. Great Wolf is a good choice to kick things off y/y? :)  
> Most chapters won't include so many characters at once. This was the intro, so (almost) everyone kinda needed to be there.  
> And PSA that Turbo is my absolute favorite character. I don't know what canon planned to do with him, but I always enjoyed the idea of a good guy who has trouble with his temper. It's a real, relatable weakness (of mine, TMI). I think it needs exploring, and I don't think he deserves dumping in camp bad guy because of it. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.  
> Anyhoo, that's more than enough notes. Feedback is love, and I would definitely enjoy connecting (reconnecting, in some cases) with fellow WMAC fans.


	2. Tracer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tracer chapter. It makes me happy. He's a great villain and I wish he'd gotten more action outside of his initiation and the Mixed Doubles episode. I'd have loved to see a match between him and Machine.  
> There are also two very mild swear words in this chapter. Who put swear words in my kids show fanfic? Oh. It was me. Well, I put them in everything else I do, like the Salt Bae guy.

“ _He's seen your face.”_

“ _He's seen yours, too.”_

 _Tracer sighs. The nerve of this punk. Or maybe it's_ nerves _. That's more reasonable. No more excusable, but definitely more reasonable. Still, he hates it when they argue._

 _He hates_ all of this _. Most of all, being left to clean up other peoples' messes._

 _Tracer raises his hand, and he hopes the gesture is obvious: he doesn't wanna hear it. But it's twofold. He points to his open palm. He reminds the punk, “It isn't just your_ face _he's seen.”_

 _Because Tiger Claw managed not only to lay into several of their better recruits when Warlock lost his cool and went after Wizard, he got hold of one and unmasked him. Got a look at his mug_ and _his tattoo._

_And it's the only thing Tracer and this useless runt have in common._

“ _Nobody'll see ever again, swear.”_

_He hates when they beg, too._

_Tracer grins. Closes his fist, and his tattoo disappears as he's drawing his arm back. “You don't have to tell me that.”_

* * *

“ _Now that we have the Dragon Star, what shall we do with it?”_

The question was posed with such glee and pride, and an utter absence of remorse, that while it didn't completely quash Tracer's suspicions about Tsunami, it definitely made him see the guy in a new light. Makes him think Hien might just be trustworthy after all... Still, trustworthy or not, he's only a pawn. Useful enough, but it's gonna take more than a little ink to really prove himself. _Wizard's_ got that, and there's a part of Tracer that can't shake the feeling that _he's_ got Warlock's number, even for all the times he's tried erasing it.

Tsunami has restraint; that's something. Decent poker face, no enemies, and a bunch of people back at the WMAC who are probably still scratching their heads over the whole thing. It'd be disappointing if the whole roster wasn't onto them—well, _some_ of them—at this point.

Their disappearance, the theft of the Dragon Star... No way the council hasn't pieced it together by now.

For all the planning, the hard work, the lurking in the shadows _,_ they aren't about to let it slip away now. They aren't gonna let it slip away, and Tracer's not gonna let anyone _slip up_.

“So, what's the plan? When do we attack?”

Tracer raises an eyebrow. He's a little less apt to condemn Hien's eagerness than say, Warlock's. His heart's in the right place, at least. So far, his mind and body have been, too. “Those are two very different questions, Tsunami.”

“Yeah? How's that?” Tsunami blinks a couple of times, like he's still in innocent, happy-go-lucky, good guy mode. Better to be stuck in that dopey character than not be able to keep his composure when it counts, Tracer surmises.

It's fine, either way; Larry's got more than enough sour grapes to make up for it. “Here we go. Sergeant Strategy's gonna give us another lecture.”

“We may have won this battle, but I'd rather it didn't go to our heads and cost us the war, eh?”

Tsunami nods; seems he agrees. But then he grins wide. “We delivered a big blow to the WMAC.”

Taking their crown jewel right from under their noses served as a wake up call, that's for sure. Still, Tracer feels obligated to point out, “This is only the beginning.”

“And the longer we sit on our hands, the longer _they_ have to figure out where _we_ are and plan a counterattack.” Warlock's not wrong, but he's got a real impatient streak. It's cost them before, and dearly.

“Yeah, but even if we did want to attack now, we have to wait for everyone else, right?” Tsunami asks.

 _Exactly_. Jukido are a much larger force than just Warlock, Tsunami, and Tracer himself, dead weight he's cut aside.

Warlock scoffs, “They're sure taking their sweet time.”

“Day jobs, prior engagements,” Tracer reminds him. “Some of them are coming a long way to be here for this momentous occasion.”

“I guess it's hard to get _rats_ through customs,” Larry mutters.

Hien laughs, but Tracer won't indulge Larry, even if that was funny. For one, he's still annoyed with him for... just about everything, and two, it might not be that far from the truth.

“But when we do _strike_ , it'll be the biggest wave Jukido has made since being banned,” Tsunami declares, proudly. Chest puffed out, he adds, “Trust me, I know a little something about making waves.”

Larry rolls his eyes so hard it's a wonder they don't pop out. He mutters, “Good grief.”

“What's the matter, Warlock? Can't handle when the unit behaves in a cohesive manner?”

“Just getting sick of us being all talk and no action.”

“Being all action isn't any better.”

“Big talk from someone who hasn't taken any action.”

That's a load, but even if it wasn't... Maybe it's because Tracer's time has been spent staying Warlock's impulsive hand. Being the guy with the giant shovel behind that horse's ass. But he doesn't say anything. He knows when to make a move, when to open his mouth. _He_ can see the bigger picture. Quiet is an answer, too.

“We can't afford any more stupid mistakes,” Tracer eventually reminds Warlock. It's not lost on him how much effort it takes to look _at_ him and not _down on him_.

“Don't forget I'm the one who risked my neck, up on the rotating platform. _Twice_.”

Alright, fine, there's no denying Warlock had the goods to come out on top during Machine and Superstar's title match. He essentially won a Dragon Star match. Just not the one he was an eligible contender in, unfortunately for Jukido. Warlock knocked both Superstar and Machine off the platform, but when it came time to fight with the mask off and the odds stacked in his favor, somehow, _he_ was the one who ended up on the ground.

Empty handed.

Larry's cavalier attitude has already cost them, not only because he didn't win the Dragon Star, but because of his glorified sibling rivalry with Wizard. All the dirty tricks in the world and he still couldn't put his brother down. Tracer knows better than to think it was sentimentality, or Tiger Claw's interruption that stopped Warlock. He'd skipped out by then.

Couldn't risk being caught red-handed and all. But leaving something unfinished—something he shouldn't have started in the first place—put him in just as bad a place as if he'd stayed in the Battle Dome and fought his brother fair and square.

Well, as fairly as Jukido ever does.

Wizard really wouldn't have been the wiser that Jukido was thriving within the WMAC until it was too late, if Larry hadn't gotten so impatient. Hadn't let a personal vendetta cloud his judgment.

Plus, if Wizard had really wanted to air Warlock's dirty laundry while his own past was being dredged up, he'd have used it as leverage. It's what Tracer would've done in his shoes, anyway. Get big bro kicked out to get his own ticket in stamped. Only, it's pretty obvious the guy just wants to wash himself of the whole affair. He may not have kept the council in the dark about his own days with Jukido, but he sure didn't want the rest of the masters finding out.

“You risked our plans that night in the Battle Dome,” Tracer points out. “You could've exposed us all, the way you went after your brother.”

Warlock argues, “Wizard needed to be taken care of.”

“You're the only one who feels threatened by him.”

Warlock's posturing is as impulsive as it is predictable, the way he leans forward and demands, “Who's threatened?”

“My point exactly.”

“Then maybe he should've been taken out _before_ he ever set foot in the WMAC?” Tsunami asks. He doesn't wait for a response, before tacking on another question. “How did your brother even end up there, anyway?”

If the council's got a mystery on their hands in figuring out what happened to the Dragon Star, Jukido's got an even bigger one _in their lap_ in trying to understand how Wizard's been allowed master status. Hell, _recruit_ status.

It still doesn't sit well with Tracer that someone who openly disclosed he had no discipline was able to join up without the council taking a real close look. He knows Wizard had to appeal the Karate Grand Masters for a spot under their umbrella.

Tsunami may have legitimately climbed the ranks of the WMAC academy, but it still takes a lot just to be accepted as a recruit. Sponsorship, or at the very least, the recommendation of an existing master holds a certain amount of weight.

Warlock still sounds far too wound up, too wounded and offended. But it's clear he hasn't got a clue how Wizard ended up at the WMAC, the way he insists, “How should I know? I didn't invite him, and I sure didn't vouch for him. You know, Wizard isn't the only one asked to join up at a suspicious time.”

Now that's gone and piqued Tracer's curiosity. “Beg your pardon?”

“Who do you think went to bat for you, Mr. Master of all Masters?”

Should've known it was too easy, not being required to declare a discipline. Sure, Tracer's trained in multiple disciplines. _Highly trained_. But you don't declare loyalty to anyone but Jukido once you declare loyalty to Jukido. Oh, he supposes he could've done like Warlock, or Tsunami, or Panther and claim something else as his cover. So long as everyone who mattered knew that's all it was: hiding in plain sight. Something some of them do better than others, _Warlock_.

It's the whole reason Panther was taken out. You don't _unstamp_ your membership card just 'cause you lose your stomach or decide righteousness is one of the points of the Dragon Star.

What Panther did was the opposite of keeping a low profile. He recorded an album, and toured the east coast with Olympus as part of some holier-than-thou anti-violence program. Now, both of these things happened before Tracer came on board, but word got around. Almost as much as Erik did. Not exactly what Tracer _or_ Jukido would consider laying low.

Which is exactly what they're supposed to be doing now.

This is all part of the plan, even being here. Getting their hands on the Dragon Star was to show the WMAC they mean business, and the chopper was just for a quick getaway _after_ they got their hands on the Dragon Star.

 _Quick_ , not far. They're still in Florida, after all. They were never going to _leave_ Florida.

It's metal and darkness and sweat, this little home away from home. Hideout. Safe house. A rose by any other name. Rusty and creaky, and it's full of stale, _still_ , humid air that isn't coming in from or going out of anywhere. Thick specks of dust ride thin strips of light. Heavy bags are suspended above nothing but concrete; a person's gotta stay sharp, no matter where he's at.

Anyone craving the safety nets and coddling of the WMAC is in the wrong place. So, everyone who's here better be able to handle it, handle their enemy. Handle themselves. Because Jukido isn't just planning an attack. It's a takeover. Jukido didn't just steal the Dragon Star, after all, and they didn't steal it _just_ to steal it. They took it back, and they'll take it back. Jukido has every intention of returning the Dragon Star to the WMAC when _Jukido returns to the WMAC_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone noticed there's a new tag of Canon Typical Violence. I hope that fits. It's just implied, for now. We know Tracer (or someone else within Jukido) took Panther out, or at least injured him badly enough he's gone into hiding. Officially, his fate was left ambiguous, but it's pretty strongly suggested to be not on the great side. So, I had Tracer do something I considered comparable, to someone he considered a liability. That poor Jukido thug Tiger Claw got his hands on... Shouldn't have ran, man. :D  
> I'm also really torn on how to portray Tracer and Warlock's professional relationship? The series implied more than once that they might not get along so well. Warlock is impulsive af and Tracer is like, “YOU'RE SCREWING THINGS UP, STOP.” But at the same time, Warlock was the one who had to be in the thick of it for most of their schemes.  
> Although, one of my favorite moments between them (I think it was improvised) is after Warlock is like, “Yeah, another match on the rotating platform!” and you can see Tracer kick him in the ass. LMFAO


	3. Red Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red Dragon chapter. And unneeded PSA that I'm not a great action writer. I skimp over and dance around it in just about everything I do. I've secretly replaced it with angst, shoddy attempts at humor, and Folgers Crystals throughout this story.  
> Italicized scenes are either flashbacks or visions. So... since this isn't a Great Wolf POV, it's a flashback.

_Yin Yang Man's 18 month old appeal finally gets a ruling, now_ this _. Red Dragon has no qualms with the council's decision; he respects their opinion, respects Richard, respects everything about the WMAC. Plus, he was there; he_ knows _the Battle Dome's sensor didn't register one of Yin Yang's scores during that match. But adding back the point he was robbed of took away Chris's lead and made the match a tie. Everybody knows what happens when a finals match is tied at the end of two minutes: it goes into sudden death._

_Only, it's a little late now to pick up from there, a year and a half later. Yin Yang's second degree Dragon Belt is already half full. They could redo the match, sure, but it's no guarantee the outcome would be what it would've been if they hadn't been disrupted—if things had gone on like they should have. In the end, the council just wiped the match. Yin Yang didn't win anything, but Red Dragon lost something._

_Belated doesn't begin to cover it, in terms of how long it took them to make that choice, even if it was fair. It's just one thing after another sometimes though, swear. Because Chris's hand is burning. He doesn't know why, only that it is. He sure didn't stick his hand into any fire. Superstar doesn't know the finer points, but he's definitely noticed something's up, and he's not the type to go, 'You okay?' in the middle of a match. None of them are._

_Ho-Sung is undoubtedly more of a poke-it-with-a-stick type when he perceives a weakness. Poke it and keep poking. Make the hole bigger, widen the gap. Keep striking 'til he hits pay dirt. Kicking and punching; that's as effective a way to tell if an opponent is okay as anything, and hey, Superstar is still wearing both of his gloves._

_Chris isn't. Because it feels like something is eating away at his knuckles and he can't take it anymore. He tosses his right glove. He's able to deflect and defend against Superstar's attack for a while. To block with just his left arm, his knees—anything—while he backs deeper into the caverns of the Stone Valley Battle Zone. But defense doesn't win matches. Doesn't drain power bars, at least. Neither does reflex, when it involves Chris hitting Superstar straight in the face with his bare right fist._

_It's instinct, and there's no taking it back. It's also a disqualification._

* * *

The council _still_ hasn't publicly disclosed that the Dragon Star was stolen, or that Jukido was behind it. That lack of transparency is only fueling rumors of what sort of threat is substantial enough to cripple the WMAC like this. The council didn't admit _anything_ , but they had to say _something_. As far as the public knows, the doors are just closed for no reason.

For the weekend. A private event. For fumigating.

No... _remodeling_. There was an earthquake a while back, after all. It knocked some stuff loose. Broke a few things. More than a few things are broken, now.

Chris is as angry and just plain _hurt_ as everyone about what's going on. Not to mention how disgusted he is with himself for pretending things are okay. Mostly, for how he can't seem to turn _that_ off, even after the cameras and microphones have all gone away.

To think, Chris is usually good for press. More than good for it. Good _at_ it, if he says so himself, and he does. No, he doesn't do it just because it's expected of him, either. He genuinely likes interacting with people. Likes the energy, the back and forth.

Okay, fine: the _attention_.

Chris'll be the first to admit he loves the camera and he's pretty sure it's mutual. That's not it, though. Not all of it, at least. If he's not competing or teaching a class, there's a good chance he's making videos for his students. He's always up for signing autographs, making personal appearances, bulking up the WMAC's presence on the internet, and he was, even before winning the title. Chris the one who came up with the idea for Secrets of the Masters, after all.

Of course, he had no idea there were so many secrets, at the time, or that some of them were so ugly.

It's just that Chris knows as well as anyone that denying a problem isn't gonna make it disappear. Or, it _is_ , and he really doesn't want that. The last thing he wants is for anyone else to just up and vanish from his life.

What Chris wants is the Dragon Star back and everyone who competed for it to stay close. Correction: _competes,_ not competed, because Chris is absolutely, 100 percent _not_ going to talk about the WMAC in the past tense. Oh, and correction again: almost everyone. Jukido can pull a Toonces the Cat for all he cares. Warlock can toss another smoke bomb. Tracer can army-crawl back under whatever rock he first came out from under. Tsunami...

Chris really doesn't know about Hien. Where he actually is. Why none of them knows where he is. If he can come back. If he even wants to. Either something bad has happened to Hien, or he's a big part of the something bad that's happened to the rest of them.

“Quit moping.” Hakim's stern, and he's looking Chris up and down. Sizing him up after the fact. His words are quick and to the point. Rude, to people who don't know him better. It's not; it's just how Hakim is. He doesn't like mincing words. Or dawdling. Wasted effort. Inefficiency.

“Who's moping?” Chris asks, and he already knows how his response gonna go over. That he's somehow managed to lie to his best friend in the form of a question.

Well, if that isn't a game show format yet, maybe it should be. Maybe he should pitch it, offer to host. He might need a new job soon, after all.

There's a single bark of laughter from Hakim, then he decides, “Okay, scratch that. Go back to moping. 'Cause it's way better than when you front.”

“Who's fronting?” Chris feigns offense. It's in the pitch of his voice, the click of his tongue, the way he's opened his eyes extra-wide to show Hakim how hurt he is by the mere suggestion.

Hakim outright laughs. _Jerk_.

Hakim's serious again real quick, though. “This isn't on your shoulders, alright? WMAC doesn't live and die with you, Chris.” The zap of his words is fresh and _raw_ , and it's a point for Machine, sure as Chris has ever felt it.

“Not just me.”

Hakim is actually taken aback and it's a rare occurrence, in or out of competition. Red Dragon ties the score. “Seriously, level with me. And don't act like you can't. We've been friends forever. Since before the WMAC and will be after it.” Another point for the Machine. That didn't take long.

“Yeah, that's the whole problem.” Score, Red Dragon. Things are tied again, but it doesn't feel like very good. Then again, hitting a crappy point with an equally crappy counter probably shouldn't.

Hakim's offended and doesn't even try to hide it. “Excuse me? You saying we wouldn't be friends without the WMAC?”

Chris groans. “That's the opposite of what I'm saying. Or just—it's absolutely not what I'm saying. I know we'll always be friends. I used to be just as sure we'd always have the WMAC behind us.”

“Okay, so, what's changed?”

“Oh, the WMAC's behind us, alright. But not in a good way.”

“We'll get the Dragon Star back,” Hakim insists. But it's not right. Because it's in his tone: he's trying to convince _both of them_.

“What if we don't, though?” Chris isn't asking to be stubborn or poke holes in Hakim's theories. _Or_ his hopes. Chris really, truly needs to know.

“Hey, come on. What kind of talk is that? Be realistic here.”

Chris sighs. “Not to be a downer, but that sounds pretty realistic to me.”

The longer this goes on, the harder it's gonna be to bounce back. He knows people aren't gonna stick around for no reason. Sooner or later, everyone will leave. It won't just be the masters, either. It really will be everyone. All the seminars and workshops that have been postponed until further notice will be officially canceled. The outreach programs and community partnerships will all be scrapped. The academy will close and all of the recruits, working their way up through the ranks will be displaced.

The WMAC, as everyone knows it, will cease to exist.

Hakim nods and reiterates, “We'll get the Dragon Star back.”

Like it's that easy, or like that'll just magically fix everything. Still, there has to be something Chris can do. Something that doesn't involve chaining himself to the throne. For one, he's not seriously considering that.

 _Unless_...

No, he's not.

 _Well_...

No, he's really not. But even if he was, everyone'd just say it's because he's in denial that he could lose the title. Chris knows his reign can't last forever—nothing does—but he meant it when he said he hoped he'd go down fighting, like Machine.

Chris reminds Hakim, “You already said that.” He shakes his head. Swallows. “What if we don't?”

“Yeah, and _you_ already said that.”

It's so simple. Chris is an idiot. He seriously cannot believe he didn't think of this before. He's almost giddy, or maybe it's that what he's thinking really is that stupid. “What if we don't have to?”

Hakim's got an eyebrow raised, his head cocked to the side, and somehow he's both deadpan and mistrustful. “I know I'm gonna regret asking this, but what exactly is going on inside your head?”

It's no surprise, and it isn't gonna be a secret much longer that what Chris has been so terrified of leaving behind— _of losing_ —isn't the throne, or the title. It's all of _them_. The rest of the masters.

His colleagues, his fellow competitors. His friends. They're more than that; they're like family.

“I can't speak for anyone but myself, but what matters the most about competing here is who I compete against, _with_ , whatever. Both. Everything.” Chris sighs. “Winning the Dragon Star mattered because I beat _you_ for it.”

“You know, it really is too bad competition is canceled, because what I wouldn't give to be filling my second degree belt right now. Working my way up to knocking your arrogant butt off the throne.”

“I didn't mean it like that, come on. You know what I'm talking about.”

Nostrils flared, Hakim snorts, “Rude ass best friend I got,” but it's an afterthought, and there's a wistful smile fighting for space on his face. Rather, he's fighting to keep it from forming on his lips. “Yeah, I think so. But rest assured, when we _are_ back and competing, I'm gonna be first in line to send you to the pads.”

“Okay, so what's stopping you? What's stopping any of us?” Chris asks, but it's answers—reassurance—he's so desperate for. He's not just talking smack and hoping Hakim will bite.

“Told you: I only do my fighting in the arena and only for the Dragon Star.”

“How attached are you to the part about the Dragon Star?”

“Pretty attached,” Hakim insists. “You know I'm not about to go picking fights for no reason.”

“Me either.”

“Quit talking in riddles, or hypotheticals, or whatever this even is, and just be straight. For real, Chris, what are you _not_ saying?”

Hakim's prodding, his impatience, it's infectious, and there's even more pressure now, for what Chris is about to suggest. “If the council announced they were starting up competition tomorrow, would you come back?”

“Come back?” Hakim repeats. He sounds incredulous. Yeah. Matches how Chris feels. Hakim eventually, and a little hotly, adds, “I haven't left.”

“ _Yet_.”

Hakim rolls his eyes. “Quit trying to put nails in our coffin, alright. Or sink our battleship or whatever. Just take it easy. You managed to have an idea that isn't entirely idiotic, so let's celebrate that.”

Chris reacts to the insult. Overreacts. Just plain _overacts_. He's as obvious as Hakim is. Neither of them means it and it's the best he's felt since the Dragon Star was stolen. “And _I'm_ the rude best friend?”

Hakim doesn't miss a beat, though. Just insists, “Just 'cause you're up on that throne by yourself doesn't mean you, or any of us is in this alone. Plus, there's no way I'm letting _you_ go down as the WMAC's last champ.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red Dragon was always sort of played as a bit of a ham, so, I want to acknowledge that as his “persona” but make it clear that's not all he's about. But also not backpedal on that characterization, either. Because hey, nothing wrong with liking the spotlight, amirite? Especially if it suits you and you look good illuminated, like Chris Casamassa does. :D  
> Everyone was way too happy when the video camera battery died while he was making his video during Icebreaker; poor guy. Red Dragon was also the one telling his 'secrets of the masters' story when Turbo was basically like, 'do you ever shut up, bro?'  
> I guess I just feel like it's a pretty well known thing that Red Dragon is friendly and upbeat, likes attention, kinda seeks it out. Only, maybe that façade has become such a trademark he has trouble turning it off, even when he wants to.  
> And Red Dragon could have totally contested that DQ in Joke's on You. But the point of the episode was to show when not to retaliate (he'd have been going about seeking justice/punishment the right way, tho?) and Superstar reaching full Dragon Belt.  
> Oh... watch me over analyze a YA show from the 90s, will ya?  
> Random Toonces the Cat reference because I can. Except now I'm picturing Jukido with a homicidal cat chauffeur.


	4. Superstar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Superstar chapter. Let's turn up the dial on the angst because that's my jam, apparently. Complicated sibling relationships or something. I am so bummed the series was canceled, for lots of reasons, but one of the biggest ones is that Star Warrior was finally getting some real attention near the end. I think he would have been (and absolutely deserved to be) the next champ.  
> The flashback isn't verbatim but it's passable? Oh, forget it, it's neither. LMAO

_Superstar knows shortcuts never got anybody anywhere. At least, not anywhere good. He also knows blaming cutting through the empty sound stage for what's about to happen is a cop-out. He does it all the time, on-set. It's_ the other thing _he does all the time that's gotten him into trouble here._

_It's dark and Ho-Sung is restrained. He's seen enough action movies—been in enough action movies—to know this is not going to end well. The sack or tarp or whatever it is comes off his head and there he is: John O. Ho-Sung's relatively confident he could take the guy, even with both hands behind his back, but it's not just him. John O brought his friends. They're not part of the crew—well, not part of the movie crew, at least._

_He's mocking Ho-Sung, as he draws back his arm and makes a fist. He's clearly got retribution on the brain. But then there's light. And a man stumbling through it. He belches. Of all people to break this up, to help him out, Ho-Sung would never have put money on a drunken old bum._

_John O orders his men to attack and they do. They're all over the old man like he's the last slice of pizza. Then they're not. The bum staggers, sways, always at just the right moment to avoid being grabbed or hit. He's outnumbered, but his movement is unpredictable, and he's got everyone off-balance._

_He's fluid and smooth, but erratic and hard to track, and it's clear Ho-Sung isn't the only one who can't figure out what the bum is doing here—what he's doing, period—until he lands a hit. Then another, and another. Then it's obvious. It's also too late. For John O and his so-called tough guys._

_They scurry away like cockroaches, the whole lot of them, and the old man takes off his hat. Points a grubby finger at Ho-Sung. Winks. Smiles._

_It's adrenaline and awe, knowing his brother just cleaned house like that. Sent a thug like John O and his whole gang running. Hobbling, in a couple of cases. Ho-Young is no bum or drunk or slouch, and he was right. About everything. He usually is._

* * *

Superstar kneels and hands over his Ki. It stands out on Wizard's previously empty Dragon Belt. It's not lost on Ho-Sung that, while Wizard is still the newest master, he should have more Ki symbols on his belt. More matches under it, at the very least.

Everyone knows why he doesn't, and as Ho-Sung has just been reminded, it's not for a lack of skill. Wizard's more than worthy of his master status. Ho-Sung has never doubted it; it's just that it's been proven to him, in no uncertain terms. To top it off, he also has to consider that Wizard might not have been fighting at 100 percent. Physically _or_ emotionally.

His familial woes go a lot deeper, too. Looks like they've fueled, rather than stalled him, though.

Maybe it's just that Ho-Sung isn't used to losing. Or maybe it's just the way his last couple of losses, rare as they are, have played out. Kicked to the pads in a case of outright sabotage. Okay, so that, technically, wasn't a loss. But it sure wasn't a win, either. Nobody won that match. Not to say Superstar's thrilled about legitimately dropping the championship to Machine, but at least the rematch was fair.

Ho-Sung really did do his very best to defend the Dragon Star, the same as he knows Machine did everything to earn it. He knows firsthand what the fight took out of the both of them. Being underground, shaken and soaked and overwhelmed. Having nothing to show for any of it, now, except a second degree belt with one Ki symbol on it.

Sometimes it seems like the aftershocks still haven't stopped.

Still, he knows it was nothing compared what happened to Wizard that night in the Battle Dome. That was a wake-up call for everyone. Up until the attack they all saw the WMAC as a haven. A place where it was rare that anything but pride was wounded.

Ho-Sung would like to think he's been in a similar situation. Okay, wouldn't necessarily _like to,_ but he has to consider it. Because he, like Wizard, once made a very dangerous enemy. Not the same enemy—at least, he doesn't think John O is Jukido. Anyway, it was definitely _not_ for the same reason.

 _Wizard_ became Jukido's most wanted because he took a stand, walked away. Ho-Sung got on John O's bad side for showing off on a movie set. Then he made it infinitely worse when he followed up his posturing with running his mouth. It was conceit and vanity—weakness and insecurity, if he's being honest—but not the sort of thing Ho-Sung would ever have imagined could cost him his life.

Lucky for the both of them someone bailed them out.

For Ho-Sung, that his brother knows him way too well, and Wizard, that Tiger Claw was still at the arena that night to save him from _his_.

It's no surprise everyone's happy to see Wizard win. It's a pretty big morale boost, and one the whole roster needed. Ho-Sung's no exception. The fuzzies he feels might be lukewarm. Peripheral. Secondhand.

But seriously, he can be happy Wizard won and annoyed _he_ lost at the same time.

Much weirder things have happened at the WMAC. He's been party to some of them. He was one half of the Masked Ninja match, after all. Scratch that, he was _one third_ of that match.

But someone has to win, someone has to lose. That's how competition works. Ho-Sung is just trying to be grateful that it _does_ work and that anything is happening at the WMAC, right now. That he and his fellow masters are back and competing, period. Because there was a time, not that long ago, when he wondered if any of them would ever set foot inside the WMAC again.

Just being here is a big deal, and it's no secret _everyone's_ still trying to adjust. _They're_ back, the Dragon Star isn't, and somehow, Red Dragon sold the council on the idea of starting things up again, anyway.

Ho-Sung understands now, why the council resumed competition without the Dragon Star.

He's gotta admit, Chris can be pretty persuasive, or maybe just persistent. Whatever his strategy was, though, it worked. The council went for the proposal and brought it to the masters for a vote. Unanimous, in favor of returning to work. Reopening.

So, the council set up a schedule, ditched a few old regulations, drew up some new rules—mostly pertaining to attendance and security—and voila. Everyone's back. Not necessarily back to normal. But everyone's back.

Including Ho-Young, and it's probably the one time ever that Ho-Sung wishes his brother would just go hang out with Turbo, since they, apparently, became best friends. But nope, Ho-Young is on him like a vulture on a carrion.

Ho-Sung is doing his best to be—to _stay_ —sportsmanlike, and not drag anybody else down. Only, there's no denying that being invited to celebrate your own shortcomings is sort of like being poked after you've been given a shot of Novocain then asked if you can still feel anything. Being poked until you lie and say you're numb just to get everyone to quit. The prodding sure hasn't stopped and it comes in all sorts of forms. He's just really not in the mood for an earful of brotherly advice, or whatever Ho-Young is peddling this time.

“You seemed distracted,” Ho-Young begins.

“If this is about the match, just drop it. I don't need a lecture.”

Now, Ho-Young's brow is furrowed, and whatever he's thinking about, he's definitely thinking way too hard about. He amends his previous statement, “You _seem_ distracted.”

So much for thinking he might actually leave it be.

“I'm not distracted,” Ho-Sung lies.

“Then how come you lost?”

It'd be funny if it wasn't so incredibly annoying and _not funny_ and completely on the mark. It's also unneeded verbal proof that Ho-Young is really not going to let this go.

“It's been known to happen before,” Ho-Sung reminds the both of them. It's useless. Pointless.

Ho-Young, of all people, should remember his losses. He's been pretty involved in the most recent ones. In one way or another. He _caused_ one and was famously—more like infamously—absent for the other one. Well, the prelude to the actual loss, but yeah.

Ho-Young somehow looks equal parts unfazed and impatient. No, that's wrong. _Backwards_ , and it's everything that's different about them. He _is_ annoyed, but he's just as determined to stick it out until he gets his point across, whatever it is. “You know what I'm talking about.”

Ho-Sung clicks his tongue. He knows he sounds childish. Indignant. “Quit treating me like I lost on purpose.”

Ho-Sung hasn't done that, since... Neither of them needs to say a word; they both know exactly when.

Superstar was winning. Then he wasn't. _Then_ he just plain couldn't make heads or tails of what his brother was doing. They both know exactly when and why the momentum shifted in Star Warrior's favor and what would've happened if Ho-Sung hadn't surrendered that match.

He thought what he was doing was honorable, bowing down—bowing out—to Ho-Young. Now, though, he's not so sure. Now, it seems like he was just afraid to be beaten in a fair fight. Underhanded schemes, natural disasters. It's easy to blame outside forces rather than _inside_ weakness. The truth is Superstar was just plain outmatched when his brother beat him.

“I wasn't trying to use a cheap trick on you, or to humble you,” Ho-Young insists. He elaborates, “I was losing, so I changed my strategy. You could've adapted your style, too. You chose to forfeit, instead.”

“I guess I was too busy thinking back on how my brother once used that exact style to save my life.”

Ho-Sung was going to lose, no matter what. The least he could do was decide how. To show his brother he understood the lesson. Only, these days, he's not sure he understands Ho-Young at all.

“And now? What are you thinking about _now_ , instead of competition?”

“ _Me_? What about you?” It's knee-jerk, both Ho-Sung's delivery and the question itself. Wounded. Hostile. A poorly planned, poorly executed attack just begging to be deflected.

Only, Ho-Young actually looks surprised and it feels too much like a victory. “What about me?”

Ho-Sung has to remind himself it's not the kind of thing to be enjoyed, or celebrated. Ho-Young rarely looks taken aback, and it's something to be suspicious of, if anything. Which is an all-too-familiar feeling when it comes to his brother, these days.

“Hanging upside-down, speed-breaking...” The words sound as awful as they taste and they come out almost like a hiss. There's a point in there somewhere that doesn't sound like an accusation. There's supposed to be, at least, if Ho-Sung ever actually makes it. “What are you thinking? Wasting your time on stuff like that when you're next in line for the Dragon Star.”

Ho-Young grins. They both know it's lopsided. Skewed. The physical manifestation of an unfair advantage, and it hurts. It's like when they were kids and he knew something Ho-Sung didn't, just because he was older. _Wiser_. Whatever.

Still, he's not getting off that easy. Ho-Sung presses, “You know you are. You have eight Ki symbols. More than anyone else.”

“I can count.”

“Then you know you only need two more wins. _Two wins_. That's nothing. You can do it in your sleep.”

Ho-Young nods. He agrees, but he's holding something back. Skill? Words? The truth? All he _finally_ says, is, “I really think you should focus on your matches now that competition is back on. On yourself.”

“You're keeping secrets, even now. If I don't deserve your trust, maybe you don't deserve mine, either.”

So much has happened, and it still feels like Ho-Sung hasn't even scratched the surface. Not knowing what Ho-Young is up to, but being sure he's up to something feels like icing on a cake topped with a set of trick candles. No matter how much air Ho-Sung loses, or what he wishes for, there are no answers and everything is just burning. Seems like no amount of huffing and puffing is gonna make this all go away.

“When was I keeping secrets?” Ho-Young asks. He's sincere and curious and _wrong_. But at least he believes what he's saying.

He's so earnest there's just no _not_ reminding him. “You let Olympus accuse you of being the Masked Ninja. You let everyone think you _were_ the Masked Ninja. You let _me_ think you were the Masked Ninja.”

“I said it wasn't me. Some people took me at my word, you know. You can't keep blaming me because you weren't one of them. I'm not responsible for how you feel, Ho-Sung.”

“You could've done more. You had an alibi. You had proof it wasn't you and you sat on it, like it's some kind of joke to you.”

“Is that really what bothers you about this?”

 _No_.

Ho-Sung and everyone else knows it wasn't his brother up on the platform. _Now_. That Ho-Young came about as close to catching the Masked Ninja that day as anyone will, until Jukido is stopped.

“I guess I just wanted there to be some reason you missed my match, other than you just not wanting to see it,” Ho-Sung admits, and it hurts more than he was anticipating.

“There is. Of course there is.” Ho-Young is sincere again. But he's also not being forthcoming. He's _still_ not being forthcoming.

“Okay, so what is it? What are you keeping from me?”

“You're the Superstar.” It's obvious Ho-Young thinks he's telling the truth, and Ho-Sung can't help feeling like he's misreading advice, or maybe just some kind of a clue for an attack.

“What does that even mean? Come on, you're a star, too. Ho-Young?”

“A Star _Warrior_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is Star Warrior hinting at...?  
> Poor Superstar, seriously. He talked a lot of smack during the series (never gave Tsunami a break LOL). But he had a bunch of weird stuff happen in several of his matches, not just the Masked Ninja match. Especially if you look back and apply Jukido's existence to earlier episodes. Not that it always fits in smoothly, but it just craps all over some of his most important victories, no matter what.  
> The prank war Warlock started in The Joke's on You helped put Superstar in the Battle Dome where he reached full Dragon Belt. Then, in the finals, that's the match where Panther grabbed the dome, scored on himself, and held on so long it didn't count when the ninja knocked Superstar into it. Dunno wtf Jukido had to gain by rigging a match in Superstar's favor (and against one of their own) but Panther's strategy in that match was weird as all get out...  
> I also hope suggesting that Superstar was losing before he forfeited against Star Warrior doesn't seem way out of line. The episode dialogue has everyone going, “WTF was he thinking; he was winning?!” but I never felt like that was the case. The tone of the match shifted (pretty significantly imo) when Star Warrior started using drunken style and Superstar couldn't mount a defense. Superstar was only winning UNTIL Star Warrior changed his style. He might've been able to come back and win once he got his bearings, but he chose to submit, instead. Anyhoo.


	5. Olympus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Olympus chapter, ft. my very favorite character, Turbo, and maybe also some actual story development? (Unlikely, on the latter, but let's pretend.) Red Dragon was my teen crush, but Turbo is 100% my adult crush. Watch his entrance into the 4-man Battle Dome in Showdown Pt. 2, walking through that smoke, lookin' like a rock star. ;)  
> The Black Belt TBT article about Mike Bernardo from last August is v good.

_There's rings suspended from chains, handles at the edge of the rotating platform itself; it's all meant to keep an athlete in the running for the Dragon Star if he's got the goods to keep himself there. Olympus has every intention of grabbing hold of one of those rings after Turbo sends him airborne. Except, the one within reach is already occupied. So, Herb is scrambling for the next best thing, which just so happens to be the ninja who was already swinging from the chain for whatever reason._

_The reason's obvious; he's trying to save his own skin, stay in the fight, even if_ he's _not there to win anything. It's gusto, resolve, or maybe just instinct, and it's not something that can be turned on and off. So what if this guy's purpose is just to make it harder for Turbo to keep the title or Olympus to take it from him. Well, mission accomplished._

_Herb's shot at the Dragon Star, and it all comes down to how much of someone else's weight one person can hold and how long he has to do it for._

* * *

The literal shadow that's crept up on Herb is at least as imposing as the figurative one that's been looming over everyone since the Dragon Star was stolen. Since _before_ it was stolen.

“Mike.”

“I don't think we're on a first name basis, _Olympus_.” Full stop. But then Turbo needlessly elaborates, “Especially considering whatever it is you're doing here. Just... considering.”

That's fair. Because the last time Herb addressed Turbo as anything other than that was during their Dragon Star match. Sure didn't call him Mike back then, and what he did say was little better than a taunt.

_It's not over yet, Bernardo._

It wasn't.

It still isn't. Oh, their match is. Rivalry, too. There never really was one, between Olympus and Turbo. Herb doesn't want there to be, now. No animosity, at least.

Although, it really doesn't help things that there's _two_ Turbos staring him down right now. One's frozen and really doesn't exist anymore; the past. It's his actions, forever recorded, and prime for judgment. Then there's the real Turbo, looking at Herb and wondering, more curious than angry, somehow, who in the hell he thinks he is to do such a thing.

At this point, Herb's not quite sure how many versions of Turbo there are, and while it may not give him the right, it's the _reason_ he's doing it. There's the Turbo that took a weapon out to the battle zone—how and why the officials allowed that is still a mystery to Herb. Especially because Turbo followed it up by pulling his staff on Bam in the middle of their match and didn't cool off enough to apologize until _after_ his finals loss. Then there's the Turbo that spent _weeks_ engaged in some bizarre pissing contest with Star Warrior over that very same Battle Dome loss.

Oh, and lest Herb forget the Turbo that finally buried the hatchet with Ho-Young. Even showed a shred of actual sportsmanship by conceding that the better competitor had won their speed-breaking contest.

Last, but not least, there's the elephant in the room. The Turbo that's freeze-framed, doing the very same: offering congratulations after losing a preliminary match to Great Wolf in the middle of a lightning storm.

The real Turbo's eyes are darting back and forth between the video monitor—yeah, still awkwardly paused like everything else—and Herb's notes. He muses, “Get the feeling you aren't studying _my_ greatest hits for _our_ next match.”

Herb clears his throat but it doesn't do much good. Swallowing is still little better than a stall and the opposite of what he should be doing right now. No point lying and saying, 'It's not what it looks like,' so, he wryly offers, “I hope I'm not.”

Herb trusts Turbo understands what he's getting at. He knows what a force Turbo is. He just really, really wants to believe that he's a force for good, all things considered. Which is why he's working so hard to do just that: consider everything. Even the sort of things he'd really rather not consider.

Turbo snorts, “Shouldn't you be holed up in a tiny room, with a giant bulletin board and a bunch of string connecting all this together? Oh, and maybe draw a big red X over my face while you're at it.”

Yeah, now there's no mistaking what _Turbo's_ getting at.

To say Herb has been buried in archive footage is an understatement. To suggest he's obsessed wouldn't be too far off the mark. It's how he concluded that Warlock and Tracer were the most likely culprits in the Dragon Star's theft. It was yet another piece in the puzzle when Johnny and Wizard both recognized the symbol that came up out of the cyber cell.

It was familiar to both of them, but only Wizard _really_ knew what it was. The remnants of his matching tattoo, combined with his eventual admission that Larry was the one behind his after-hours assault in the Battle Dome only fueled Herb's suspicions.

But there's something about it all that he just can't shake. Herb and everyone else knows now that neither Turbo nor Star Warrior was the Masked Ninja. Everyone's pretty well convinced it was Warlock beneath that getup and _behind_ that plot, Herb included. It being _his_ theory and all. But Turbo and Star Warrior have still never explained what they were doing during Machine and Superstar's match, or why they weren't watching it in the Inner Sanctum with _almost_ everyone else.

It can only mean so many things. Herb really can't believe it took him so long to figure it out.

He has to accept that he's never gonna get the truth—the whole truth—unless he asks for it, and that he knows now _what_ he needs to ask, no matter how crazy it might sound. It's a long shot, yet, Herb has rarely felt so sure about anything in his life. “How long have you known Jukido was plotting to steal the Dragon Star?”

“What makes you think I know?” Turbo cocks his head to the side, and he seems to be asking himself more than Herb. He shrugs. “Know. _Knew._ Whatever.”

“Been doing a lot of thinking,” Herb admits. It's true, even if it is sort of a cop-out.

Turbo smirks. “Looks like you've been doing more than just thinking.”

He's not wrong, but he's also not getting off that easily, especially now that Herb's sure he's on the right track. Herb presses, “What were you doing at the academy that day? What was Star Warrior doing in the tramway tunnels?”

“One question at a time, Clarence Darrow. No, wait. He was a defense attorney. I take it back. Matlock! No. _Crap_. So was he. Perry Mason? _Damnit_.”

“ _Turbo_.”

Turbo raises an eyebrow and the stakes, when he challenges, “Why don't _you_ tell _me_ what you think I was doing at the academy?”

“No,” Herb insists, curtly.

Gone from Turbo's face is the smug, just plain _amused_ smirk of a moment before, and it's clear by his expression that he's been caught off guard.

Herb is beyond firm, “Not doing that again. No more jumping to conclusions. I wanna hear it from you.”

Discipline is one of the points of the Dragon Star, after all. Neither of them needs reminding of that, yet, in a way, they both do. Because Herb knows what _he_ did before was the opposite of that. Going after Star Warrior the way he did, after the Masked Ninja first made his debut. It was impulsive, not to mention shameful and just plain sloppy. To take it so far and with very little actual evidence. The repercussions could've rippled well beyond just the ding to his own pride and the pangs of guilt he still feels over the whole ordeal.

It's exactly why he's been so focused on poring over every file, every piece of footage now. Only, the more Herb read, or watched, or just plain _remembered_ , the less he understood. Until now.

Maybe it's just that he can't reconcile why he was so much quicker to condemn Star Warrior than Turbo was to step up and vouch for him, or why it's the _two of them_ that seem thick as thieves now. Herb'd say it's that neither is the type to hold a grudge, but that's the exact opposite of what sparked the weirdest rivalry-turned-friendship the WMAC has ever seen.

Turbo nods. Lets out a breath. It's some mix of a snort and a sigh. Frustration, tinged with relief, if Herb's reading it right. The look, and sound, and just... _feel_ of someone who's caught but can't help appreciate the effort that went into it. Or maybe he's just that ready to be unburdened.

It almost looks like he's smiling, except Herb's pretty sure Turbo isn't capable of that.

Turbo takes a breath. “The council received word there was a plot to steal the Dragon Star.”

“The council? From who? How do _you_ know this?”

“Easy. I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears.” Turbo's back to looking self-satisfied. Only, there's a certain seriousness about him, too. A certain... melancholy about him. Something dark and heavy, in front of, behind, and just all over him. It's holding him up as much as it is dragging him down.

It's nice to finally be making headway, getting information, but it still feels like everything's off the rails and will be for the foreseeable future.

Turbo eventually continues, “The informant couldn't, or maybe just wouldn't, say who all was in on the plot. Just when and how it was gonna go down.”

“During the Dragon Star match between Machine and Superstar,” Herb guesses. Doesn't feel like it's much of a guess, though, at this point.

“Yeah,” Turbo confirms. “So, the council were at least able to implement some extra measures during the match. But we only had so much to go on.”

Herb's got a hunch Turbo's talking about a specific person, rather than using the word 'we' editorially, and he can't help echoing, “We?” When he gets nothing but radio silence from Turbo, he instead asks, “What extra measures...?”

“The council employed a manual release to keep the Dragon Star from rising out of the chamber unless it was Hakim or Ho-Sung left on the platform.”

Herb knows his brow is furrowed. He's blinking and his face is just doing all sorts of things while his brain tries to process the information. More like, to accept the information it's already processed: the council had advanced word about Jukido's plot to steal the Dragon Star and Turbo has, apparently, already been working to prevent its theft from behind the scenes now, for months.

For the icing on _that_ cake: he's not the only one.

It's bittersweet, putting it together. Sweet, to figure it out, no doubt. But the words taste bitter on Herb's tongue. “That's where Star Warrior was. You're working together.”

That's _why_ Star Warrior was where he was, anyway, and how ended up where he ended up. Herb sure didn't need another reminder of how wrong he was about Ho-Young. Finding out he was actively working against the real culprit and it's the whole reason he couldn't disclose how he ended up in the tramway tunnels—well, it hits even harder.

“Did you _just_ figure that out?” Turbo looks _and_ sounds a little too entertained.

“Gimme a little credit. I had to do it the hard way. And where were you?”

“I was at the academy, like I said,” Turbo's reply is quick, flippant. Honest.

“Doing...?” Herb asks.

Turbo raises both eyebrows, rolls his eyes. It's amusement, but there's also a certain well-concealed self-deprecation lurking behind the façade that Herb's not used to seeing. Turbo mutters, “ _Not_ keeping Warlock from ending up on top of the platform. Or _poofing_ his way off of it once he got himself up there.”

“You didn't know you were looking for him.”

“I didn't know I _wasn't_.” Turbo shrugs, but there's something off about it. Like he's trying to shake something and it won't budge. A memory, or a mistake, or both.

“What? _Did_ you see him? Before the match? Somewhere you shouldn't have?”

“I did. Then I didn't. Showing Tracer around. It was his first time at the academy. On-site at the WMAC, period. New master and whatnot. Then they left. I _thought_.”

They obviously didn't. Warlock ended up dressed like an academy recruit and Tracer ended up in the tramway tunnels. He, Warlock, and Star Warrior _all_ did, eventually, before just about everyone had even so much as seen Tracy Swedom's face at the WMAC.

Something has suddenly occurred to Herb, “If the council didn't know who all was involved, what in the world made them trust you?”

Turbo clicks his tongue, but he's only pretending to be offended. “I had ample opportunity to take off with the Dragon Star well before any of this happened, okay. Are you forgetting I won it? And defended it. _Twice_.”

“Alright, alright,” Herb concedes. He can't really argue with that logic. Okay, he could. He just doesn't want to.

“Before some jerk finally got lucky and beat me for it.” Turbo pauses. Smirks. Then he snaps his fingers and pretends he's trying to remember anything about _their_ title match. “Who was that guy again? Easily the worst champion the WMAC has ever had.”

“Very funny. Okay, so that's why the council _approached_ you.”

Turbo sounds beyond suspicious, and he's right to. “...Yeah, it is. What are you getting at?”

 _Of course_ he's not going to make this easy.

Herb swallows, but what he wants to say—because he _needs_ _to know_ —is stuck in his throat. It's not exactly nice, but he honestly wonders. “I just mean,” he begins, and he knows he's rationalizing. Too much. Including, what was, until too recently, his own stance. “Ho-Young makes sense.”

Turbo exaggerates being offended, and scoffs, “Ho-Young _does not_ make sense. Trust me. I spend an inordinate amount of time with him.”

Forget making it easy, Turbo's going to do the exact opposite. It says something that he's making it entertaining as well as difficult.

Herb can't help chuckling a bit. “You know what I mean. It's obvious Star Warrior would do anything to protect Superstar. So, what's your stake in this?”

“Because it's for the good of the WMAC,” Turbo answers. Before Herb can say anything in response, he's adding, “And it's just too hard for you to believe _I'd_ do a thing like that. Gotcha. Good talk.”

“Hey, come on.”

“It's okay.”

It's not. With either of them.

“So, what now? You cross me off your suspect list?”

“You were never on it.” It's not a lie, but it's not quite the truth either.

It's on Turbo's face, in the furrowed brow, the narrowed eyes, the pursed lips. In the monosyllabic reply. “Right.” He doesn't buy it.

“You weren't,” Herb insists. But in trying not to sound desperate, his statement comes off more like a threat.

“I just wasn't not on it.”

“You're not as good at being a jerk as you think. You have friends here, Mike.”

“I'll remember you said that.”

“I'd rather you believed it.”

“Any particular reason you're telling me this?”

“Going up against Jukido...” Herb shakes his head, cuts himself off. He knows he's not as good at looking sly or unaffected as Turbo is. “Pretty good chance they're also following orders but _they_ aren't gonna be playing by anyone's rules but their own. They aren't gonna fight fair.”

“I'm aware of how they do things.”

Everybody is, at this point. The whole roster has at least a rudimentary understanding of Jukido and how dangerous they really are. Even with all the research he's done, Herb knows he doesn't have the level of understanding Wizard does, nor does he want to. Or Turbo and Star Warrior, as it turns out.

What they know, how long they've known. What all they're doing, have done, or are expected to do, on behalf of the council. It's just a whole lot to process, even now.

Herb finds himself asking Turbo, “So, how does this all work?”

“How does what work?”

“Being a WMAC secret agent, or whatever you and Star Warrior even are.”

Turbo snorts, “It doesn't, mostly. Why?”

“Just don't want you getting arrested.”

_Or worse._

Herb can't quite say that part out loud.

Turbo smirks, but he almost looks wistful. He winks. “I have a lawyer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's interesting the series never amped up a rivalry after Turbo lost the Dragon Star to Olympus. Ah, well. Turbo and Star Warrior got the (funny af) rivalry and they're my BROTP, so it's all good.  
> Olympus is just very smart and good at figuring things out and giving insight on people, esp those he won the Dragon Star from. Or something. Don't listen to me.  
> Sometimes I wonder if the writers had trouble settling on a vibe for Turbo.  
> I feel like fanon just assumes he'd have been revealed as Jukido and that kinda bums me out. No doubt he'd be a great bad guy, but I like him as an anti-hero much more. He has legitimate personality flaws, but wants what's best for the WMAC, ya know. He was self-aware enough to apologize to Bam, at least? Also, unless I'm mistaken, the only time anyone, announcers aside, referred to Turbo as Mike is during Bad Blood, when everyone's commenting on his match with Star Warrior being a good fight.  
> I don't think it's a coincidence he's the one who got the PSA about how “it's not always easy to tell the good guys from the bad guys.” It prefaced a generic “don't do drugs” message, but very interesting opening words coming from him, no?  
> 


	6. Star Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star Warrior chapter. I know the series itself made him, Turbo, and Bam all red herrings after the Masked Ninja. Star Warrior was the one really hung out to dry, though. They were all given alibis but the plot never circled back and explained wtf Star Warrior and Turbo were doing (at the academy) to cause them to miss the match in the first place. Hence, this crappy headcanon I'm on. :D  
> Also, you can totally see Warlock in the Inner Sanctum in Showdown pt. 1. So, he really is a warlock, I guess. Decisions were made between seasons 1 and 2, methinks.

_It's like running into a brick wall. He's about Machine's size and wearing fatigues, now that Star Warrior is seeing who it is he just collided with. But he can't dwell on that or how weird it is someone else is even down here in the tramway tunnels, because he needs to catch up to that recruit._

_The person pretending to be a recruit, that is. If he or she was really an academy ninja, and Ho-Young has it on good authority they're not, they'd have stayed up top and taken the mask off. Simultaneously knocking two masters from the rotating platform is an accomplishment worth celebrating. That's the fast track to becoming a master oneself, if he's ever seen it._

_Only, Ho-Young knows what this really is: sabotage._ He's _supposed to be stopping it._

_Explaining how he had the ninja in his sights and let them get away sure isn't gonna be fun. Turbo's never gonna let him hear the end of it._

_Suspicion is unbecoming, but something tells Ho-Young that this... GI Joe here isn't just out for a stroll in the WMAC's underground tramway system. If the council employed someone else to help them out, they'd have told him, right?_

* * *

Star Warrior isn't sure he's done the right thing by allowing himself to be one of the few people trusted with and expected to guard the WMAC's secrets. To guard the WMAC itself. He doesn't like being elusive, hiding things, despite what Ho-Sung seems to think.

He's not doing it for an advantage. Okay, he is. But not a competitive advantage. There's nothing petty or vindictive motivating the action. Doesn't mean it's right, though. Nothing stays hidden forever. Things might be better if they'd never been hidden in the first place. Ho-Young realizes that now.

Bare minimum, he has to know who first warned the council about Jukido. He'd like to think it could only be so many people, but he really doesn't know. It was someone the council took very seriously.

It's someone _he_ takes very seriously.

“You wanted to see me?” Wizard is reasonably tentative, but he's here. Alone. Again. He's visibly and audibly wary, but his presence is further proof he doesn't back away from a challenge. More than a challenge. He had to have known what Warlock was planning for him that night in the Battle Dome, or at the very least that he was up to no good.

No, Ho-Young didn't have advance warning of that or he'd have been there to intervene. He wouldn't have been the only one, either.

Ho-Young just replies, “There's only so many people who know how Jukido operate.” But he stops himself, almost like he's waiting for someone else to pick up and finish his thought for him and actually make the accusation. To say the ugly, uncouth part, with no regard for how it makes him look or sound.

Where's Turbo when he needs him?

“Yeah. I didn't figure you wanted to see me to congratulate me on a good match.”

 _No_.

It was a good fight, though. Even if there hadn't been so much buildup and excitement surrounding WMAC's first day of competition since the theft of the Dragon Star, he'd have been paying extra close attention on account of the contenders. He watched Wizard beat his brother, and watched the way he did it. Fair, but unrelenting, and with an uncanny ability to zero in on and exploit even the tiniest of imperfections. Ho-Young knows better than just about anyone that Ho-Sung doesn't have many flaws, and they are just that: tiny, and _very_ hard to spot. No doubt about it, Wizard is someone who's used to fighting with the odds stacked against him. He's also clearly capable of winning that way.

“I walked away from Jukido years ago. I don't exactly get their newsletter anymore.”

“Do you print your own?” Ho-Young asks, without missing a beat. There's a weird part of him that wishes someone else was around to hear the remark. Someone besides the target of his suspicions. Accusatory isn't normally in his bag of tricks and he's not sure he's doing it right. He's not sure he wants to be.

Wizard's stunned, although, there's no sense he's offended. It's genuine, innocent surprise and nothing more. “My own what?”

“Newsletter on Jukido,” Ho-Young elaborates, stern and firm. More like _sarcastic and entitled,_ for suggesting Wizard is some kind of gossip, or backdoor informant. Not for suggesting it, no; it's more for the way he's going about it.

“I don't know what Larry's up to any better than you do.” Now there's a tired resignation in Wizard's tone. It's almost as if he doesn't feel anger over or even try to deflect judgment anymore; he just absorbs it. “But I do know we won't get anywhere fighting among ourselves. I might not know what Jukido is up to now, but I'm absolutely certain they'd relish knowing the WMAC is crumbing under its own weight.”

Ho-Young doesn't say anything out loud, but it must be on his face that he agrees. Jukido _would_ be thrilled to know the WMAC's grand reopening is shaping up to be little more than an airing of dirty laundry. He figures it's that sort of mentality that got them kicked out in the first place. Schadenfreude isn't one of the points of the Dragon Star, after all. But it will be if Jukido has their way.

It's why Ho-Young is having such a hard time understanding how the council has allowed even an ex-member of their organization to join. They would need a really, really compelling reason for doing so. They didn't lift the ban on the whole group, after all. Just _Wizard._

Almost as if on cue, he insists, “I didn't _ask_ the join the WMAC, and I _didn't_ offer information in exchange for acceptance. Still, if I hadn't shown up...” There's no mistaking the on-edge and just plain wounded tone in his voice. It makes sense he'd be touchy, defensive. He hasn't had much choice to be anything but, lately. Probably not just lately.

More than that, Ho-Young believes him. There's a difference between compromise and a person only giving an inch because he intends to take at least a mile. Manipulation doesn't seem like Wizard's style.

Ho-Young looks Wizard straight in the eyes and tells him, “Jukido would've still attacked the WMAC. We'd just have no idea who they were and what they were up to. We have an advantage because of you.”

“You all have _something_ because of me. Not sure I'd call it an advantage,” Wizard muses. He manages a small chuckle.

There _is_ genuine amusement in there, though. Ho-Young can _feel_ it. Affection and longing, too. Toward the community Wizard wants so much to be part of. But it's bound. _He_ is. Tangled in pain and betrayal and self-deprecation.

“You didn't do anything wrong. It was Warlock's choice to show his other side when he saw you again.” Ho-Young means to be reassuring, but he'd settle for placating.

Wizard insists, “I didn't do anything _at all._ The council approached me. Now I know why.”

Ho-Young knows why, too. “Bait.”

“Guess I can't blame 'em. It obviously worked.” There's a wry grin on Wizard's face. Happy and sad, it's relief and regret, all fighting for space. Or maybe it's all just stuck there and he can't help showing all of it any more than he help feeling all of it.

It means something Wizard's poker face is so weak, compared to Warlock's; Ho-Young trusts him and he's sure it's the real Wizard he's looking at. He asks, “So, that's how you joined, but why? You knew Warlock was here.”

There's no way Wizard is _that_ of touch with Jukido's business, or his own family. He had to know there'd be problems. Tension, at the very least, considering how long he and Warlock have been estranged. Competing side-by-side with a sibling is tough, even under the best of circumstances.

Warlock never even told anyone he had a brother. It's obvious why: for the same reason he never told anyone he was a member of Jukido. Because he _is_ a member of Jukido. And Wizard isn't. Anymore.

It's all got Ho-Young thinking on things, almost to the point of obsession. His last conversation with Ho-Sung sure hasn't helped it any, either. Just because they'll never be enemies doesn't mean there isn't a rift. It feels like the chasm is growing ever-wider, too, and Ho-Young knows it's his own fault.

He doesn't like keeping secrets, really. But they aren't just his own that secrets that he's keeping. He won't be the only one at risk if he's found out. He tries reasoning that's what makes it different. Justified. He's working for the good of the WMAC, for the council directly, not against it. But when it really comes down to it, maybe it's not that different. Maybe _he's_ not.

It's still deception.

“That's exactly why I joined,” Wizard's declaration is determined sounding. Beyond that, it's sincere.

“You wanted to stop Warlock.”

“I just wanted to see him again,” Wizard admits. His words are so small and quiet, like he's ashamed of himself for still caring about his brother. “He'd been here so long, winning matches, making friends. Or, I mean, I assumed he was making friends.”

There's no denying that there was a version of Larry that Ho-Young liked and trusted. It's even harder to think about it all being a lie, or maybe it's just not the whole story. That none of them were the wiser about Warlock, _until_ Wizard showed up. It wouldn't have stopped him. With Wizard here, they know he's their enemy and have a much better chance of catching him.

“I don't know,” Ho-Young eventually acknowledges. “Warlock wasn't making any friends. But I think the rest of us were.”

“I guess I just wanted to believe there was a chance Larry had changed. It didn't take me long to realize I was wrong.”

Probably about the time Wizard stepped into the Inner Sanctum after his initiation demo and was hit with a barrage of taunts and jeers and told outright that he didn't belong.

Ho-Young is solemn, firm—warm and fuzzy isn't exactly in his repertoire—but he means it when he says, “You may not have found the family you were looking for here, but you found family here.”

“Yeah,” Wizard agrees, but his tone is dull, muted. He wants to believe it, though, that much is clear. He heads for the door. Just shy of the threshold, he glances back, and insists, “We'll find my brother, too, wherever he's at.”

“ _And_ whoever really tipped the council off to what he was up to,” Ho-Young adds. He hopes his meaning is clear.

He's just not good at apologizing. To _anyone_. He realizes now how wrong he was wrong to assume Wizard had to be the council's informant. It all feels a little too much like what happened when everyone jumped on him as the Masked Ninja, just because he was the obvious choice. He just couldn't divulge what he was actually doing, and on whose orders, without revealing way too much.

Part of him is still hurt by it, even now, that the one person who came to his defense wasn't his own brother. Either Tiger Claw truly believed Ho-Young was innocent—until proven guilty, anyway—or he was doing it to try to atone for something in his own past. His own judgment passed on another person, at another time; a grudge held too long.

Wizard nods, and Ho-Young stands silent until he disappears from sight.

He's alone again, but it doesn't feel like it. Maybe it's just paranoia and wishful thinking, that someone might be watching him, too. It's the first thing he wants and the last thing he needs.

“Guess you'd rather talk to other people's brothers than your own.” It's Ho-Sung, and it's in the cadence of his voice he's testy, frustrated. Disappointed, tired.

Ho-Young offers a sheepish but not dishonest, “It's not what it looks like.”

“I wouldn't know; I have nothing else to go on.” Ho-Sung sighs. “Everything I know is bad. Everything I don't know makes me wonder even more about everything I do know.”

“Like what?”

“Like you. That you're caught up in something bad.”

“We all are.”

“That's not what I mean,” Ho-Sung insists, and it's obvious he thinks his words aren't being heard the way he wants them to be. “The Dragon Star is gone, Warlock and Tracer are gone. Tsunami is gone.”

 _Tsunami_.

That cuts like a dull knife, and Ho-Young tries not to respond. But it's hard. Everyone knows you have to poke harder if the blade isn't sharp.

Ho-Sung scoffs, rolls his eyes, and both hotly _and_ haughtily declares, “It's just like before.” He's so certain he's right and he's not happy about it.

Ho-Young asks, “How is it like before?”

“There's something going on with you and I don't want to be the last to know.”

“Trust me—”

Ho-Sung cuts him off, “That's a tall order, these days.”

“I'm worried about everything, too. About the Dragon Star. About Warlock and Tracer. _About Tsunami._ ”

“We don't even know where he is or why he's gone.”

Well, that isn't exactly true... Ho-Young knows better than most where _he's_ at and why, but it doesn't do anything to quell his fears; it's making them even worse. But he has a responsibility. To his brother, to Turbo, to the WMAC as a whole. The reason he took on that responsibility with the council in the first place was because of Ho-Sung.

Only, Ho-Young knows what he needs to do. He's not looking for absolution and he can't speak to, for, or about anyone but himself. But continuing to pretend he can't do at least _that_ is an excuse. “Do you really want to know why I missed your match?”

“It's all I've ever wanted.”

 _It is not._ But Ho-Young can feel the real meaning behind the misfire of his brother's words this time: _I want to trust you again._

Ho-Young sighs into explaining, “The council had advanced word of Jukido's plot to interfere with your match.”

“Advanced word? You mean like inside information?” Ho-Sung is asking.

“Something like that.”

“From who?”

“I don't know. I thought I did,” Ho-Young answers. Shakes his head. It's the truth, but no telling if Ho-Sung will believe him.

Ho-Sung nods. “Wizard.”

“That's what I thought,” Ho-Young confirms, “but I was wrong.”

“This whole time...?” Ho-Sung's thoughts trail off and take his voice along.

“I was wrong this whole time?” Ho-Young guesses. “Yeah, you could say so.”

“Are you serious? I mean _you_ , moonlighting for the council this whole time!” Ho-Sung has figured it out, and as expected, he's incredulous.

“I was doing what I thought was best.” It doesn't feel any better or worse, finally saying it out loud. It just is what it is. He just is. They just are.

They're no more broken than they were, but nothing's changed, either. Ho-Sung isn't angry. It'd be easier if he was. It's what Ho-Young was bracing for. Maybe not outrage, but to see and feel those old, but still open wounds put to words.

Instead, Ho-Sung is just... walking away. Ho-Young doesn't watch; he can't. He can barely hear his brother's footfalls, his motions are always so unhesitating and effortless. Or maybe it's the disappointment of being kept in the dark. But then the steps get louder as Ho-Sung is undoubtedly getting farther away, and that's not right. The anger must just be catching up to him.

It's sloppy, really, looking ahead and not paying attention to his blindside. Odd, too, considering how stuck Ho-Young has been in the past. He feels a pair of arms snake around his shoulders and neck, rough and tight, and he's completely taken aback.

Ho-Sung is definitely the more forward, more outgoing one of them, but it still feels extremely out of character for him, _this_ kind of display. The embrace is awkward and one-sided, and Ho-Young feels constricted, or maybe just unworthy. It's too much strength and energy, or maybe it's just misdirected. Like when they were kids and they were close to the same age and size and skill level, but not the same. Always close but never the same.

Ho-Sung's grip is strong and tight; he's equal parts determined to hold onto something and prove a point. He won't be left out _or_ behind, this time. “I'm sorry I doubted you.”

“I'm sorry I kept things from you.”

Ho-Sung lets go and backs away. He's somber, “And I'm glad you didn't just drop the Masked Ninja thing. I didn't know how long you were holding onto it, or why.”

Ho-Young is equally subdued, serious, “That was my fault.”

“But I want to know everything, now.”

“The things I kept from you... If I tell you, there's no taking it back. It could get ugly. And dangerous.”

Ho-Sung's expression is bittersweet. He snorts, “That train left the station with the Dragon Star. I want to help get it back. At some point you're gonna have to trust that I can take care of myself.”

Ho-Young insists, “I do, and—”

“Yeah, me too.” Ho-Sung smiles, but it fades to an expression of confusion. “But if it _wasn't_ Wizard who told the council about Jukido...?”

It means there's another Jukido member still lurking in the shadows. Or an ally who just can't speak up right now, if they're lucky. If not, though, it's another sleeper, just toying with them all and waiting to strike while their guard is down.

Still, Ho-Young nods and looks his brother in the eyes. “We'll figure it out. Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D'aww. Brotherly reconciliation makes me all warm and fuzzy.  
> I know it's pretty gaping that I've done little more than to have the good guys mention Tsunami in passing. Next chapter, alright. :D  
> Also, there is no less story here than at ffnet; I just ramble that much in my notes, and this site is lovely and has a separate section for them and they don't count toward the lump sum word count. Goes to show I really do need a fellow WMAC nerd to talk to, I think...


End file.
